Tombo
W.S. Di Piero, 2014, McSweeney’s, 9781938073762, 63 pages, hardcover.
Like new.
No one sounds like W.S. Di Piero. Explosive language, rough sensuousness, unflinching eye--here is a poet who will not look away, and who is always committed to poetry's first purpose: to bring song. Tombo is a book of lyrics fueled in equal parts by realism and big-fish storytelling, a book of wanderers, foghorns, summer rain, feral cats, and city jazz. Built on heartbreak particulars, these poems are raw, mysterious dilations of the moments of existence: Life, as you say, my friend, is lived in its transitions. There's a yonder that abides right here. It lives in the electric air of field or room, unseen but palpable as snow or blowing dust. --from "The Running Dog"
W.S. Di Piero, 2014, McSweeney’s, 9781938073762, 63 pages, hardcover.
Like new.
No one sounds like W.S. Di Piero. Explosive language, rough sensuousness, unflinching eye--here is a poet who will not look away, and who is always committed to poetry's first purpose: to bring song. Tombo is a book of lyrics fueled in equal parts by realism and big-fish storytelling, a book of wanderers, foghorns, summer rain, feral cats, and city jazz. Built on heartbreak particulars, these poems are raw, mysterious dilations of the moments of existence: Life, as you say, my friend, is lived in its transitions. There's a yonder that abides right here. It lives in the electric air of field or room, unseen but palpable as snow or blowing dust. --from "The Running Dog"
W.S. Di Piero, 2014, McSweeney’s, 9781938073762, 63 pages, hardcover.
Like new.
No one sounds like W.S. Di Piero. Explosive language, rough sensuousness, unflinching eye--here is a poet who will not look away, and who is always committed to poetry's first purpose: to bring song. Tombo is a book of lyrics fueled in equal parts by realism and big-fish storytelling, a book of wanderers, foghorns, summer rain, feral cats, and city jazz. Built on heartbreak particulars, these poems are raw, mysterious dilations of the moments of existence: Life, as you say, my friend, is lived in its transitions. There's a yonder that abides right here. It lives in the electric air of field or room, unseen but palpable as snow or blowing dust. --from "The Running Dog"